


Krumped

by Shiloh1221



Category: Real Person Fiction
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Crack, M/M, Mythology - Freeform, Other, Warning: Donald Trump, im sorry, no birds were harmed in the making of this
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-08-17
Updated: 2019-08-17
Packaged: 2020-09-02 14:14:08
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 633
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20277223
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Shiloh1221/pseuds/Shiloh1221
Summary: The setting is early 2016 and Ted Cruz get a visit from a special co-running member... and more.





	Krumped

“Once upon a time not long ago, I was a hoe…”, sang Ted Cruz in his bedroom. “… and I’m admittin’ it…”, it was late at night, so his wife was out with the other politician girls and he had the entire house to himself. “I won’t take it back because I did the sh-”, Ted squealed as a sudden knock on the door disrupted his amazing and his wicked dance moves. (He danced like a fish being electrocuted). Teddy walked towards the door to answer it; behind the door was someone he didn’t expect but craved (like porridge on a cold day). Trump!  
The instant waft of spray tan, money, and racism made Cruz instantly harden. Noticing this Trump smirked and invited himself in. Ted moved to let Trump by, staring at his ass as he was passing; he liked it, but he knew the package in front was a lot better.  
“So, you used to be a hoe,” Trump questioned with a smirk and a raised eyebrow. Ted reddened as he had forgotten the song he was earlier singing along and busting out sick moves too. Before he knew it, Cruz felt his space being invaded, and he looked up to see Trump towering (😉) over him. In one swift motion, Trump had Cruz pinned against the wall. He lowered himself to Ted’s ear and seductively whispered, “Show me how much of a whore you really are, my slutty teddy bear.”  
That was it; the fuse to light the bomb; now they were at it and no one could stop them. They were two old, wrinkly republicans grinding against each other, swapping saliva, and groping any body part they could find in their haze of lust. It was like an old renaissance painting: cracked, dusty, possibly broken, and better left in the trash and incinerated… twice. They were so focused on fracking, that they didn’t notice a third party enter; a one-man band named Krampus. Suddenly, Trump felt a hard-oblong object press against his butt cleft through his slacks, made in Mexico.  
“O’ Donny boy and my Teddy bear how could my two boys get off without their daddy?” they both heard a smug deep voice barrel. As Trump sucked on Cruz’s collarbone, leaving a trail of hickeys and possible stds, Cruz’s lust fogged mind cleared up just enough to breathily say,  
“We’re sorry daddy, punish us both.” At that he felt Trump smirked against his collarbone. In one swift motion, both Trump and Cruz felt themselves being lifted into Krampus’ arms and cruzed (lol x3) into Cruz’s bedroom. Once on the bed it got even nastier; clothes were shed like a third skin, saliva was everywhere; it was like a grosser lemon party. Every bird that flew by the bedroom window and was sadly subjected to this eyesore, instantly died. But before any ficuses could be planted in anyone’s backyards, Cruz removed himself with a chaste kiss,  
“I need to get the bubblegum flavored lube out of the bathroom, BRB 😉,” Trump and Kramp were gettin’ it on so hard they only slightly noticed the seductive hips swaying away towards the bathroom.  
As soon as he entered his high-class bathroom, he removed off of the rack and closed the door. After putting on the gas mask, he pressed a shiny button hidden in the medicine cabinet; abruptly all of the windows, doors and any other possible exits were sealed airtight. To busy making nasty sex noises and positions, Krampus and Trump did not notice the exits locking and sealing. Slowly they felt themselves losing energy and growing tired; the bodies slowly stilled until they collapsed off of the bed. Breathing in the colorless, odorless, and tasteless poison gas. Single running republican candidate, and firm disapprover of Nordic myths, the zodiac killer strikes again.


End file.
